The Paradox of Existence
by icewater
Summary: (Originally Titled "It's Never Easy)Not abandoned, author back from haitus...A mysteryromance DracoHermione fic that tries to be a little original...
1. Happy Birthday, Hermione

Disclaimer:  I own nothing, nor do I claim to.  The plot, I suppose I do, but I wouldn't have that either if I wasn't using the characters.  I wish I did own it, I wouldn't have to worry about the thousands in school loans that I have to pay off..

**It's Never Easy**

**Chapter one:  Happy Birthday, Hermione**

Hermione sighed as she glanced down at her outfit.  _'Twenty-two years old and I still look like a child,' _she thought mournfully.  She had picked out something to wear for tonight specifically, being fully aware of her "surprise" birthday party, thanks to the ever-present stream of consciousness from Ginny.  It had slipped out two weeks ago, much to Ginny's embarrassment, but Hermione had been relived to have the advanced knowledge, knowing that this party would most probably bring together people she hadn't seen in quite some time, and she wanted to make a good impression.  Not that she cared, really, what others thought, at least that is what she told herself, but still..she wanted to look like something more than the Hermione that everyone expected when it was a party in honor of her.  

She plucked at an invisible ball of lint on her skirt, and once again gave a snort of disgust at her appearance.  In reality, she didn't look bad, in fact she looked quite nice, but as she glanced around the room she felt quite dim compared to everyone else.  She had chosen a simple grey wool skirt, which fit nicely and fell just shy of her knees, and a cashmere red sweater. But she felt herself slip back into the role of Hermione, the bookworm of Gryffindor, as she stood next to Ginny with her sparkling red locks, and her pretty yellow dress.  

Not wanting to spend the party in ridiculous introspection, more so when the subject was appearances of all things, she glanced around the room, and met the eyes of Harry, her best friend.  She smiled at him as crossed the room to approach her.

"So," he asked, eyes alight, "was it a huge surprise?"  

Hermione tried to bite back a laugh, and instead smiled indulgently at him.  

"Oh, yes, Harry, I had no idea.  I really don't know how you and Ron kept this a secret from me, especially with inviting these people from work."  

There were many people here that Hermione hadn't expected to see, actually.  Several people she worked with in position as a medicinal potions researcher were present, and she was grateful for this.  Aside from Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione's boyfriend, Laurence, she wasn't really sure who else would attend aside from old Hogwarts friends and acquaintances.  But she was pleasantly surprised by the mixed crowd that had appeared already, so early in the evening.  Lawrence had invited several of his friends whom Hermione got on with well, and Ginny had brought a few people she worked with as well, as had Harry.  

She laughed grimly as she counted the number of people in the room who were either former members of the Order of the Phoenix, or presently Aurors (or both really), and thought of what an unpleasant picture this would have been for any Death Eaters four years ago.  

Four years ago, this brought back a familiar wave of memories which she swiftly repressed.  The war, the uncertainty, the loss.  Him.  She tried to repress the memories of Him, the fastest and the harshest, but they were always the hardest to ignore.  

_'It was just a lark, just a game.  He needed something to have power over, and you needed someone to touch you.  It was never anything more than that anyway, it couldn't be.  He hated you just as much as he always had, new views of not, and you hated him,'_ she told herself fiercely.  

She shook herself abruptly, realizing that she had let her thoughts get away from her, and Harry was still standing there, gazing at her with an odd look on his face.

"So, where's Ron?" she asked brightly, mentally chastising herself for allowing her memories to consume her at her party.

"He's coming with Lavender and Parvati later.  Lav had to work, and he was waiting to meet her and come together," he answered.  

Lavender and Ron had been dating for the past six months, about the same as Laurence and she, and it was a surprising match, in her opinion at least.  She had never thought much of Lavender in school, really.  She had nothing against her, but they had never really clicked.  But Ron seemed incredibly appreciative of her "charms", and he quite happy in this new relationship.

Speaking of relationships, she quickly glanced across the table she was standing next to, Ginny having moved on to talk with a friend of hers, Audrey something-or-other, and smiled at Laurence.  He was a sweet man, and she was fond of him.  He reminded her slightly of Harry.  Physically they were not the same; Laurence was taller, though just as lean, with dirty blond hair and sharp hazel eyes, brimming with intelligence.  But he carried with him a sense of loyalty and earthy realism which reminded her of her best friend.  He wasn't exactly igniting her with passion, but she had found him to be a good companion and a welcome addition to her life.  

With two loud pops, Fred and George arrived, bearing gifts in their arms.  They grinned at Hermione and deposited the parcels on the table before Fred picked her up in his arms and swung her around.

"Well, well, if our little girl hasn't grown up.  No more bossy Prefect telling us what to do.  Now you're old!" he cackled as he set her down.  She mock-glared in return as her answer and blushed furiously at those who had turned to watch with amusement.  

"Oi," George replied, "She may not be Prefect, but I don't think she's lost that bossy mouth of hers."  They both laughed and proceeded to kiss her on the cheek affectionately before wishing her happy birthday and walking off to greet others.  Hermione smiled warmly at their backs.  While she had always liked them in her younger years, she had to admit that she had been quite. rigid when it came to their antics.  In seventh year, when the War was beginning, Hermione had come to appreciate their light heartedness in the face of all the gloom, and it was really through their influence that she had loosened up quite a bit.  She was still efficient, book devouring Hermione, but maturity had taken the edge off her, and sorted out her priorities.  

The door opened and Hermione and Harry both let out a loud "Hello!" and wide smile as Ron walked in with Lavender.  Hermione's smile faltered a bit as she watched the procession of the rest of the group walk in- Lavender followed by Pavarti, Pavarti followed by Padma, and Padma by- Draco Malfoy?

"Malfoy?" she asked dumbly, looking at Harry in shock.

"Oh," Harry answered easily.  "Yes, he's been seeing Pavarti apparently.  Suppose with Pansy's blessing," he grimaced at the mentioned of Pansy Parkinson.  Harry and Draco had settled with an amiable sort of truce after the War.  Harry commented to Hermione that while he was still a git, he tended to grow on one, and standing side by side fighting off those who wish to kill you does bring people closer.  Hermione had to agree, but she wondered what Harry would say he if had knew of the truce that _she_ had had with him.  She suspected that there would be a string of swears and a couple of death threats accompanying _that_ revelation.

"Happy Birthday Hermione!" Ron hollered back at them, rushing over to envelope his best friend in a hug.  She staggered slightly under his unexpected weight and smiled up at his beaming face as he took a step back.  

"Thank you Ron.  Hello, Lavender," she acknowledged, nervously avoiding the rest of the party.  She didn't quite to know how to address this particular problem, and she felt her heart beating furiously.  She was saved though, by the touch of Laurence's hand on her shoulder, and she turned to him.

"Hey, My, there's someone I want you to meet over here."  He looked up at Harry and Ron and smiled good naturedly at them both.  "Mind if I steal her away for a minute?" 

Harry and Ron both laughed.  "I don't reckon you can ever steal that one away without her consent, but I offer mine,"  Harry responded.  "We've been trying to get rid of her for years."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and allowed herself to be led away.  "I will not look back, I will _not_ look back," she commanded herself.  But she did, and met Malfoy's unreadable eyes.  She sucked in her breath, he had changed, but he was still painfully Draco in her eyes.  His face was a bit fuller; his features looked well placed on his face.  His hair was still the shocking blond, almost white, bangs almost in his eyes, his beautiful silvery eyes all the more defined by his grey robes.  She felt so decidedly muggle in comparison to him, and this realization drew her gaze away from him and back to where Laurence was taking her.    
  


------Yeah, kind of a crappy place to leave off, but my fingers are killing me.I'll update soon, and review please, because I don't really know what I'm doing here!


	2. Hello, Malfoy

**Chapter Two-  Hello, Malfoy**

*************************

Hermione followed Laurence as they approached a tall, dark haired man.  Something about his stance and ebony waves struck a chord of recognition within Hermione, and she was startled as Laurence greeted him.  

"Blaise!  This is the girl I've been rattling on to you for the past week. Hermione, dear, this is Blaise Zabini.  He and I were friends in childhood, and I haven't seen him for years.  He's working with me now, and I coerced him into coming tonight."  Laurence beamed with anticipation as he watched Hermione and Blaise make to greet each other.  

Hermione was taken aback by Blaise's sudden appearance in her life_.  'Two Slytherins for the price of one?'_ she thought grimly, but quickly forced herself into greeting Blaise with warmth.  Though she trusted Blaise, he was yet another who had surprisingly turned sides when the war came to a boil, she and he had never been close.

"Granger?" he questioned, the shock in his face was clearly read by Laurence, who looked curiously at Hermione.

"Hi, Blaise," she answered.  She turned to Laurence, "Blaise and I went to school together, Laurence, we were in the same year, but he was in Slytherin House," she explained to the Beauxbatons graduate. She turned back to Blaise and decided to initiate some sort of conversation with the quiet man she had never really known. 

"So, you are working at Gringotts as well?   Do you work with Laurence in the accounting section?" she questioned pleasantly.

Blaise shook his head, and quickly answered.  "No, I work with curse breaking, and checking the security of the vaults.  I was working in France, in another department of Gringotts, where my elder brother works, for the past three years.  I've only been back here for a short while.  Don't really have any set plans for the moment."  He made a face that clearly stated that he hadn't met to say so much.  

"So, you and Laurie, eh?  He spoke of you, but I didn't make the connection.  No last name, and I've been out of the loop here for quite some time.  Didn't even think of you."  He looked at Laurence with vaguely concealed amusement, as if he found the idea of his childhood friend and the Gryffindor Golden Girl to be a great joke.  It made Hermione idly wonder what side of Laurence Blaise must know, what side of him that would make a Slytherin find him a suitable friend.

_'Then again,'_ she told herself, '_it's not like you haven't been known to have dealings with Slytherins.'_  She cursed inwardly for once again letting herself be drawn back into thoughts of Dra**_-_**_Malfoy_, and also for her ridiculous notion of school houses.  The War had shot down the idea of rivalries between houses, instead there was only Light and Dark, the good versus evil, and Zabini had chosen to fight with Dumbledore.  This was no time to regress into petty schoolyard resentment. 

Laurence bent down and brushed an unruly curl back behind her ear.  "Er, I need to talk to Harry really quickly, are you alright waiting here for a moment?" he asked her.  She rolled her eyes at him in exasperation as an answer, and he grinned back at her cheekily.

"Alright then, see you in a moment," he said, and took off in pursuit of the dark haired wizard.

Blaise broke the silence by bringing up the one topic Hermione really did not want to discuss at the moment, at least not before consuming a large bottle of wine by herself.  

"Is that _Malfoy_over there?" he asked incredulously.  He looked down at her with a cocked eyebrow.  "I thought you and Laurence.."  He trailed off, wincing at his unasked question and with the very un-Slytherin realization that he had revealed too much.

"What does that mean?" Hermione shot suspiciously.  "Yes, Laurence and I are together, but I really don't see what Malfoy being here has to do with that."  Her stomach turned at the idea that perhaps he knew.  Did Malfoy tell?  She would never forgive him, though she could picture it well.  It went along perfectly with the idea she had of him outside of their time together in their common room and Order meetings; Malfoy and Zabini smirking by the fire of the Slytherin common room, sharing conquests.  Malfoy bragging about being able to shag the Gryffindor virgin, the frigid lion.  She bit back tears of embarrassment as she hesitated to look up at Blaise.

When she did, however, she saw that he looked as uneasy as she felt.  

"It didn't mean anything, forget I said it," he said, aiming for dismissive ness, but she heard the lingering wariness in his tone.  She looked back up into his face and realized that perhaps, he didn't know, but he suspected.

"Right then, but I still don't understand what kind of connection you were trying to make between either of those relationships.  I mean- in Malfoy's case- the lack thereof.  We were Heads together, and we fought together.  That was it.  And it was a long time ago.  I haven't even seen him for two years, nor have I spoken to him since he came in." She said with an air of defiance.  She met his gaze once again, and he appeared to be much more back into the character she knew, full smirk and all.  _'Do they take classes in that,'_ she wondered, '_A__ sort of preparatory class on smirking before they can be admitted as Slytherins?'_

"Of course, of course.  I don't really know what I was talking about either, there's no connection at all.  I just always had a feeling that there was more to it than that, being one of Malfoy's only _intelligent _ friends," he smirked again.  "I could always pick up on there being something different with the way he looked at you."  He observed her as she flushed prettily, and stammered a bit, and his smirk grew wider.

"Oh- well.  I mean.," She was trying very hard to choose her words carefully but was only succeeding in making herself look like a fool.  "I guess there was a surprising amount of mutual respect found, especially during the war.  I suppose that was it."  Ah, successful excuse.  

She gazed about the room desperately and caught the eye of Ginny, who was sitting next to an animated Neville.  

"Ah, Neville, I must speak to him about some plants I need.  You know me, always working," she laughed nervously. "Well, Blaise, it was nice speaking with you again, I do hope you enjoy the party, and you  should come to dinner with Laurence and I while you are back in town. It seems like he would love it, and I am interested in hearing how you and he became friends."  She wanted to end the chat desperately so she could think on what he had said in private, but she didn't want to sound rude or abrupt.  She smiled and met his dark eyes to find that he was actually smiling back at her, and realized that she had never really seen him smile a real, simple smile.

"Well, it was nice to see you as well, Granger, er, Hermione.  If Laurence is the same old Laurie I remember, it seems like you two will do well together, and it would be nice to catch up with him in a more pleasant environment than the depths of Gringotts.  Happy Birthday," he added, and she proceeded to take her leave.

She made her way to talk to Ginny, feeling that at this moment she needed a decidedly normal conversation, something Ginny could certainly offer.  She would even accept gossip at this point, along as it had nothing to do with a certain tall blond former Slytherin. She was happily received by her friends, and paraded around the room for the next hour or two, meeting up with old friends, having pleasant talks with coworkers, and skillfully avoiding Malfoy.

She found herself a little while later without anyone to talk to, and a little tipsy.  She was starting to become quite tired, it had been a long and surprising day, and she walked over to find Harry to lean on while Laurence was occupied with some colleagues. She was, alas, intercepted before her leaning post could be reached, and found herself in the clutches of one Mr. Allabach Garwyn, her eccentric supervisor at her lab, of whom she was somehow unaware his being in attendance.

"Ah, Wotcher, Miss Granger!" He greeted her, his eyes sparkling much brighter than normal, and she suspected that he had been drinking quite a bit.  "Or should I call you the soon-to-be-Mrs. Augustin?"

Hermione was taken aback by his question, which seemed to come completely out of the blue.  Laurence and she had only been together for six months, they weren't even contemplating moving into together anytime soon, let alone marriage!  She opened her mouth to protest, but was so flummoxed, she had nothing to say, and in any case he rattled on.

"Hermione meaning Earthy, Augustin meaning Noble.  Yes, yes, I can see that.  What a good union of names, for one so practical and full of strength and compassion.  It's a fine match between two young people, you can tell just by that!" He looked pleased with himself and his deductions, but Hermione was quick to notice the stares they were drawing from his loud proclamations.  

"You must tell me, dear child, when you are finally married, what a send off we shall give you at the lab!  Why when I was married, it must be coming on 50 years ago, I received not only the biggest party I had ever been to from my friends, but also two barrels of apples, and a goat!  And let me tell you if that goat didn't eat all the apples by the time the party was over.  That may have been a disappointment for me, but don't worry your head, because I soon got over it and that goat proved to be a loyal companion.  It saved me once, did I ever tell you about that?  He droned on and on, and this was about the time when Hermione started to tune him out.  In fact, she _had_ heard the story of when the goat had saved him from the flickering lights that were leading him out into a bog to drown.  Whether this was the true tale or not, Hermione had no desire to hear it once again, particularly not when he was this drunk and had just announced her non-existent engagement to this side of the room, which also happened to unfortunately contain Parvati Patil.  She groaned as she realized that if Parvati had heard, this would mean that half of London would know by tomorrow mid-morning.  

"Wait," she paused, "If Parvati is there and so is Padma." She flew her eyes around the large room rapidly, looking for any sign of the white hair flashing, so that she could hold on to the fantasy a little longer that Draco was not anywhere in her vicinity.  This illusion was shattered, however, when Mr. Garwyn suddenly peered past Hermione's shoulder and greeted someone in directly in behind her.  

"Hello, there, don't you look familiar?  What's your name, then?" he asked, peering up at the man. 

 Hermione did not need to hear the name, she didn't even have to rely on the fact that she could smell his distinctive cologne _('I can't believe he's still wearing that,_' she thought) she just knew who it was. 

 _'Because, of course, when meeting someone again at your surprise-but-not-a-surprise birthday party after not seeing them for two years, particularly the person whom you are trying to convince yourself you are not still in love with, it only makes sense that the time he would choose to approach you would be when you are engaged in witty conversation with your stupendously drunk boss, about gluttonous goats, bachelor parties, and your surprise recent engagement that not even you knew about,'_ she thought angrily.

She absently fingered the wand in the pocket of her skirt, wanting desperately to apparate back to her apartment, take a long bath, and bury herself under her duvet, never coming out again.  

Before Malfoy could say anything, which she had no doubt would be full of condescension and malice at her poor, though embarrassing boss, she turned to him, smiled politely, and  said coolly, "Hello Malfoy."

"Granger," he acknowledged.  He looked down at her, his gray eyes once again unreadable, and she cursed them, for not the first time in her life, for being so closed.  Why did he have to make it so difficult to read anything off of him? Allabach was completely forgotten as the two continued to gaze at one another, each measuring the other up. 

 It was she who first broke off the staring contest.  "So, Malfoy.  Parvati?"  She chanced a glance up at him and smirked inwardly when she could see that this at least was not where he had particularly wanted the conversation to go.  "I assume Pansy is fine with this arrangement?"

That was an intentional low-blow, and both he and she knew it.  There was no love between Pansy and Draco, for the life of her she couldn't understand why they were still engaged. Well, Pansy's side took little explanation, he offered her a handsome husband, a reformed good name and well place in society, and millions of Galleons.  But why Draco was still stuck with this ridiculous family arranged relationship she couldn't tell.  Perhaps it was to appease his mother, his only remaining part of his family after his father's death.  

It wasn't as if his affairs weren't public.  Here he was, at party, which he wasn't invited to, in a room full of people who, while they could not say any longer that they _hated _him, perhaps, they certainly held little esteem for him, save a few people, and he was _flaunting _her.  It seemed easiest to Hermione for them to just end the ridiculous charade of an engagement (which was going on three years, mind you!) and let each other go.  

"Yes," he answered tersely.  "Pansy is quite comfortable with the situation." 

She watched him try not to glare at her and smirked.  It must be some sort of birthday concession to her.  She wondered briefly why she was acting this way towards him.  Just the fact that he came with Parvati to her birthday party after unknowingly breaking her heart four years ago didn't really give her the right to not play gracious host to him after all these years.  So, she did.  Just in her own, 'I'm not admitting that I ever liked you but we can't argue because we were on the same side in the War' kind of way.

"Well, where _have_ you _been_ these past two years, Malfoy?" she questioned, and delivered up to him a perfectly sweet, and perfectly fake smile, one which she knew he could see right through.  

"Harry used to tell me when he'd see you, keeping me updated on the goings on of old Order members I suppose, but two years.  Time certainly does fly.  I would have expected you to have children by now!"  She let out a little laugh at that, knowing that once again that was a bitter comment that was far too harsh for this kind of confrontation disguised as pleasant exchange.  She knew, from the time when they were tentatively friends (how odd that their bond could have felt so real, they couldn't comfortably label it) how he felt about having children.  He wanted them, but was desperately afraid of what kind of father he would be, wanting his family have nothing like the family he had.  He had loved Lucius and Narcissa both, but he confessed to wanting warmth, and never having his children worry what their parents truly felt for them.  Her heart had a broken a little that night as well, just listening to the barely disguised pain in his voice.  

She bit her lip in punishment for saying that.  It was too harsh, and she hoped that if she could keep up a nonchalant appearance, he might not make the connection between her knowledge of his fears of having children and that previous remark.  One look into the storm clouds of his eyes told her that he wasn't buying, and he knew what she was doing.

"Why are you acting like this, Granger?  I thought we had a truce?"  

There.  There it was.  Out in the open.  Just- tossed on the table like a comment on the weather, or some stupid article in the Daily Prophet.  Like a commodity, like it didn't matter, like it was something common.  They had never spoken about it while it happened, never outside the warm cocoon of sheets and blankets, whispers, limbs akimbo, cries into the night, and the longs talks which they always followed with to lead them into sleep, never outside this nest did they mention it.  And now, here it was, cheapened in the flickering candlelight of this banquet room, cheapened by it being spoken of in front of her friends, _her friends_, who had no idea what it was like to want something you knew you could never have, something you never dreamed you would ever want!  

This time it was her eyes that were flashing as their gazes clashed again.  

"We did, Malfoy, we did.  Things change though, and we all have to move on, don't we?"  

Her dismissal of him was met with a frustrated glare and silence.  "Here," He said, still walking up to her as she glided to the front to collect her coat (_'If_ _I don't get home soon, I'm going to pass out.  I'm much too tired now,'_ she thought desperately).  "I wanted to give you this," and handed her a long slim box, wrapped in thick crimson paper, the color of her old sheets, her favorite mittens, her toenails when she was seventeen.  

"Happy Birthday, Hermione," he said quietly, and she stumbled off to thank Harry and Ron, kiss Laurence, and explain to them her sudden exhaustion.  She quickly apparated back to her flat and kicked off her shoes.  It is only then, sitting on her bed, clad in her skirt and a bra, holding the box in her hand, that she realizes that was the first time he ever called her Hermione outside of bed.

*****************************************

Okay, that's Chapter 2.  Next Chapter she opens the gift, we get some flashbacks to illuminate their previous relationship, the War, etc.  I'm hoping to have it up this week, maybe by Wednesday? I don't have  any classes then, so we'll see.

Thanks so much for reviewing!  It's a nice motivator!

**NewSecretRose**- Thank you so much for your kind comments, I really appreciate them!  And Laurence is Hermione's boyfriend, sorry if I didn't make that clear enough in the first chapter, but hopefully it's apparent after this chapter.  We'll get some more character development  into this guy as well, I don't want him just flopping around.

**Random*Oddity**- Thank you for reviewing as well, it's so nice to know that some people are actually reading this, and that some people are appreciating it.  I'm planning on bringing this all the way through, I don't really have a plan for the story, but I think that'll be the fun part.  Hope you enjoy it as I go along!

**Tupz-** Yay! You were my first comment.  Thanks so much, I was really excited about haha.  No, really thanks, and I hope you like this chapter as well.


	3. Remembrances

**Chapter Three:  Remembrances**

Hermione decided to leave the package until morning. Her nerves were frayed from his unexpected appearance, and she longed to leave the ubiquitous thoughts of Malfoy aside and sink into sleep with only the pleasant memories of the evening.  She could hear the sounds of her roommate Daphne puttering around in their kitchen, and thought perhaps of going out to join her.  But she decided against this action, thinking that perhaps the strain of their tentative relationship would just add to the oncoming headache she could feel, and opted for sinking back into her bed.  

Her dreams were not consoling, however, and she found herself awake at three in the morning, and walking out into her kitchen for a frustrated cup of late night tea.  

She was angry that he could still, whether in person or in memory, bring her emotions to such turmoil. 

'_It was just sex.  You don't fall in love in a month, and besides, you were seventeen.  Who falls in love when you're seventeen?  It was never real.'_  This was her mantra whenever her thoughts turned to Draco bloody Malfoy.  They had an "affair" of sorts her seventh year, right after he had met with Dumbledore and joined the Order.  They were Head Boy and Head Girl, and it was easy to find relief they both needed in such a stressful, destructive time with each other, feeding off of the other's vulnerability and strength.  It had lasted a month, maybe two, before the real battles started, and Hermione had found herself facing the very unwelcome truth that she had fallen in love.  He had ceased being the one dimensional Death Eater in training that she, Harry and Ron had always viewed him as, and during her time with him she could see the other aspects of him.  His intelligence, his desperation, his acerbic wit which was sometimes toned down with a surprisingly gentle sense of teasing...and more.  His courage to turn against his family, specifically his father, his ambitions, his grace.Malfoy became Draco to her in those months, though she never spoke his first name to him, outside of bed, until she saw him fall on the field.

It was not that she had never wanted to see him again, far from that.  He was never far from her mind these past four years, though she fancied herself past the romantic attachments.  She had a sinking suspicion that she might have to admit to herself that she was still in love with him when she called out his name one night with her last boyfriend.  That had proved an extremely awkward situation, and resulted in a painful breakup where she was accused of being, using Ron's term, a 'scarlet woman'.  But that was two years ago, when he disappeared completely from her life, and she thought that by now the hold he had over would have passed.  She had reasoned that the lingering emotions she attached to the memories of he and she were due to the way she had never settled anything.  She _had_ loved him, but was never able to tell him so.  She would wonder, sometimes, that if things had been different, if they hadn't gotten together in a night of desperation, clinging to each other like they were the only things that could prove that they were real, that life still existed, what may have happened.  Could they have gotten over their hurtful and tumultuous childhood struggle and found the real selves within each other in a normal way?  Would they, once the smoke of the war had passed, been able to find some semblance of a real relationship?  

She walked back to her room, determined to force her mind into the metaphorical blank slate, and actually get some sleep this time around.  Instead, she found herself staring at the crimson package, the light of the fireplace adding warmth to the color.  She decided to open it now; perhaps that was why she couldn't sleep.  She couldn't imagine what it was, why he was giving her something now.  

"It's probably some ridiculous piece of jewelry," she murmured disdainfully.  "Cost a bundle and I bet he didn't even pick it out himself."

She removed the paper carefully, and opened the lid of the think black box.  When she looked at the contents, her heart dropped.  Holly and Ebony, it's shape and gleam something she could never forget, having used it faithfully for seven years.  Her wand.  It was the first important piece of magic she had ever received, aside from the Hogwart's letter.  But the most shocking of all was that it wasn't broken!  

"Can you even fix wands?" she wondered aloud, as she picked it up.  But there was no denying that it was hers, and not just another wand similar to her old one, she could feel it when she held it.  

Her mind was spinning, and holding this old piece of wood she could not even attempt to ward off the memories of how this wand had been broken in the first place.  

_Hermione was standing in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch, her school cloak folded tightly around her with one hand to ward off the surprising chill of the early July morning, her other hand clutching her wand so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.  _

_"This is it," her feverish mind kept repeating, "This is really it."  The wards on the school were down, and Hogwarts, which had been hosting the Order for the past six weeks after school let out, was now under siege.  Voldemort was here, somewhere, Dumbledore had assured them of this, and accompanying him was many a Death Eater.  Hermione had fought her way out to the Quidditch Pitch in hopes to find Ron, having not been able to see him anywhere she had been in the castle.  Harry, she knew, had his own mission, and was being well protected as he searched out Voldemort by Arthur Weasley and Professor Lupin.  But Ron, where was Ron?    _

_Her stomach lurched as she saw an orange head darting a red light, but not noticing the Death Eater approaching from behind. _

_"Ginny!" her mind shouted in recognition, and she shot off a Stupefy against the person approaching her best female friend.  She looked around rapidly and observed that among those fighting outside the castle, the Death Eaters were outnumbered.  The Order had grown vastly in number after fifth year when it was finally confirmed by the Ministry that Harry and Dumbledore were not crazy lunatic liars, and that Voldemort had indeed arisen.  Those who were not currently at the school had apparated once they were notified that the wards on the school had been dismantled, and the Order members were quickly joined by Aurors and the resident of Hogsmeade who had been warned via the Three Broomsticks floo of the invasion.  _

_She looked around the Pitch again slowly, searching out for another familiar red head, when her attention was caught by a familiar lean white-haired boy.  She watched, aghast, as he was hit by a stream of bright violet light, and she ran to him, artfully dodging a curse, and issuing a Protego against another.  She gasped his first name in horror as she saw the blood streaming through his white, cloakless top, and nearly fell in shock.  Dropping her wand as she was hit in the side by the elbow of a fighter of the Light side, she dimly noticed that it had broken in the fall, crushed under the foot of the comrade, and she pushed it into the pocket of her cloak.  She fell to Draco's side, and took off her cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders, hoping to ward off the morning chill and any complications it might lend to his apparent rapid blood loss.  She reached out and grabbed his wand from his hand, ignoring the worried tears that dripped down her face, and attempted some rudimentary healing spells she had taught herself to stop the flow of blood.  She moaned as she saw that her spells were working only a little, the cuts from the hex had reduced from gushing, but were unfortunately still flowing._

_From behind her she heard a most unwelcome voice._

_"Well, does the little mudblood think she's powerful enough to stop this hex?"  The taunt was a mix of disdain and mirth, and the coldness of his voice made her skin crawl.  _

_She turned in response, not caring anymore about the wrath she might face from opening her mouth.   _

_"How could you?" she cried.  "How can you stand there when he's dying?  He's your son!" She wanted to spit at him, rage at him.  She wanted to take all of her pain and fear and frustrations and kill Lucius, but not with any stupid spell, with her hands.  _

_He smirked back at her, a smirk that reminded her chillingly of his son's smirk, one she had seen a thousand times, but his was decidedly much more sinister.  _

_"My son?__  I have no son.  That boy is no more a Malfoy than you are a witch.  He joined with Dumbledore, he is a betrayer.  This is what he deserves to go against me so," he answered.  _

_She could hear the blood in her head rushing, her rage and disgust were building to a point where she wanted to retch.  She watched distantly as he raised his wand at her again, and she raised Draco's in response.  She heard a voice yelling her name in the distance, and, stupidly, in a very un-Hermione like move, she turned her head back away from Lucius and looked for it's source past Draco's form.  She saw a red light shoot past her should, but not knowing where it came from.  But she had no more time to look because after that instant, a curse hit her from behind and she collapsed into darkness, her body thrown over Draco's_.

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Okay, I lied, but in a good way, right??  This is shorter than the others, but I wrote it and decided that if I wanted to include the rest of the memories, it would be a ridiculously long chapter, so I am breaking it up over this and the next chapter.  Chapter four will be a normal length chapter, maybe a bit longer than I've been writing, and it should be up around Wednesday, as promised.

Thanks so much for the reviews, and please continue to do so!

-icewater


	4. A Decision Made

**Chapter Four- A Decision Made**

When Hermione pushed herself out of the confines of her memories, she noticed that within the box, Draco had left a note.  She was full of both dread and hope at what the note might contain.  True, he had seemed like he wanted to be quite cordial to her at the party, she was the one to bring out all the snarkiness, but she was also very aware of the fact that he hadn't spoken to her in two years.  Also, she couldn't very well push out of her mind that he was involved with at least two women that she knew of at the moment.

She was, however, surprised when she read the note, it's simplicity making her more confused.

_"Granger,"_ it said, _"I've had this for years…I found it in the pocket of the cloak that was wrapped around me when I was taken into the Mediwitches after the final battle, and knew them both to be yours.  I wanted to give it back to you many times, but for some reason I couldn't part with it.  I would like to see you again; I hope you will consent to this request.  Happy Birthday,"_ it concluded, and it was signed 'Malfoy'.  

She read through it once more, and found that she was forcing herself to not read too much into it.  So, he wanted to see her again?  That could mean anything.  By why had he kept the wand for so long if he didn't feel some sort of emotional attachment to it?  It wasn't like he couldn't have found anytime in the two years following the war, when they were not in personal contact, but still had many similar acquaintances.  She reasoned that had their situations been reversed, she would have kept his wand as a reminder of what they had shared; when they had nothing else, this personal item would be the last thing of his she could really have.  She wouldn't have wanted to give it up, but was that how he felt as well?

"Grow up, Granger," her mind screamed.  "He probably just didn't want to return it at the risk of having to actually thank you for trying to save him."

Yes, as much as she loathed to admit it to herself, this was probably closer to the truth than any other reason she could imagine Malfoy having.  Still, it made things much easier.  Perhaps if she were to see him again, she could remind herself of all the reasons it was completely impossible for them to be together, not to mention why she had always thought him an egotistical, bull-headed, prat, before she started to care for him.  

"Oh stuff it; you know you want to see him again just to see _him_ again.  You want to know if his hair still feels the same, if he ever laughs anymore, how he's changed.  You want to know who he's become.  What kind of man he is now."

She winced at her thoughts, knowing them to be the unfortunate truth, and settled herself back into bed.  She knew that she should get some bit of sleep, since Laurence, who had stayed away tonight figuring her to be exhausted and over-stimulated by the "surprise", would be over early in the morning, to celebrate with her the official date of her birth.   

Hermione awoke the next morning resolved to put Malfoy far out of her thoughts, and enjoy her birthday angst-free.  She showered and dressed, opting for casual spring clothes, and waited in the kitchen for Laurence's inevitable arrival.  He came, on time as usual, bringing with him Harry as a surprise.  

"Morning, My," Laurence exclaimed as he swept her up in an embrace.  "I brought Harry with us; I thought he might like to spend the morning with you as well.  

Hermione smiled at Laurence's thoughtfulness.  He was not a jealous man, and understood how close Hermione was to her two male friends, and never presumed to object to this closeness.  

"So boys," she said cheerfully, "What's the plan for today?"

Harry smiled at her in return, and looked to Laurence for the answer.  

"I was thinking that we could go to breakfast, and then maybe a walk in the park?  I have your present already, and Harry has one too, but if you wanted to make a stop in Diagon Alley, Harry and I agreed last night that we will treat you at Flourish and Blotts."  Laurence laughed slightly at the way her face lit up at this revelation.  In reality, Hermione was both pleased and slightly embarrassed.  She hated being so predictable sometimes, knowing that her friends saw her ultimate birthday treat as a free trip to a bookstore made her blush.  She couldn't deny the truth of the assumption, but somehow felt ashamed of how boring it was.

"That sounds excellent, thank you Harry and Laurence.  Why don't we go to Diagon Alley first?  We can eat there, and then go to the bookstore and then the park?"  She grabbed her cloak in case the early spring weather took a turn for the worse, and made her way to the fireplace.

"Well, what are you waiting for?  A written invitation?"  She smirked at them as they both scowled at her, before joining her to Floo to the Three Broomsticks.

The day passed quickly for Hermione.  They didn't run into many people that they knew, surprisingly.  A friend of Hermione's, an ex-girlfriend of Harry's, and lastly they met up with Blaise again.  He had invited them to dinner the following evening, and Laurence had eagerly accepted.   When the sun started to set in the park, after hours of chatting, Hermione reading, and Laurence and Harry flying, Hermione bid goodbye to Harry as she and her boyfriend apparrated back to her flat. 

"So, My.  Did you have a good birthday?"  Laurence asked earnestly, peering up at her from his reclining position on her bed.   

Hermione finished removing her earrings, and quietly joined him by his side.  She smiled fondly at him, and gave him a long, sweet kiss before answering.  "Yes, Laurie.  I had a perfectly lovely birthday.  Thank you so much for giving me such a nice day."

Later that evening, Hermione found herself drifting off to sleep, and she was disturbed by her thoughts.  She realized that Laurence's embrace felt wrong, as much as she enjoyed it, and she hated to admit that she did indeed want him slightly taller, leaner, and with much fairer hair. 

*******************************************************************

The next morning, Laurence returned to his own apartment to change, and do some work that he had left.  He promised to meet her at 7 so that they could go to Zabini's home together for dinner.  Hermione was surprisingly not nervous, nothing Blaise had said suggested that it was a party or anything like that, and she figured that most of the attention from Blaise would be off of her as he and Laurence caught up.  She wondered if Blaise was married, and what sort of woman she would be.  

Since she had plenty of time until Laurence came, she quickly picked out something to wear so she wouldn't have to bother about it later.  She chose a simple black wrap dress, and her favorite ruby earrings.  _'Always the Gryffindor,'_ she laughed as she laid them on top of the dress.  Now that she had that ridiculous task out of the way, she thought it was time to get some real work done.  She spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning, arranging, and cataloging her potions supply.  It was an arduous task, but one which Hermione reveled in for it's exact application.   She finally noticed that it was getting late, and took a bath before dressing. 

While she was waiting for Laurence to arrive, she found herself rereading the note Malfoy had given her.  He wanted to be friends?  It seemed outrageous, but she mused that while he was not, or had not been in love with her, perhaps he did hold her in some kind of importance.  If he wanted to be friends, then perhaps this was the chance she had been waiting for.  They could become friends, and she could be reminded of what he was really like, and get her head out of the clouds.  While Hermione knew herself well enough to know that she was by no means idealizing Draco, she also thought that her love for him couldn't have been based on the real him.  

_'But what is the real Draco?'_ she asked herself.  _Did anyone really know him for real?  Was the person he showed me seventh year the real Draco Malfoy, or was that just another one of his masks?'_  It was with this thought that Hermione became determined.  She would befriend him, and it wouldn't be some stupid flimsy friendship either.  She wanted the real deal.  She wanted to know who and what he was so that she could finally make her heart realize that he was not the one for her.   

With that, Hermione quickly grabbed a quill and some parchment and rattled off a note back to Malfoy.

_Malfoy,_

_Thank you for returning my wand to me after all these years.  It means so much to have that back in my possession.  I have considered your request, and yes, I find it appropriate.  I would like to be your friend again, and I allow you to contact me again._

_H.G._

Of course, it was a rather cold and perfunctory note, but if he wanted a sonnet then he was talking to the wrong girl.  Hermione sent her owl off with the letter, and sat back on her bed to wait for Laurence.

**********************************************************

This chapter was a long time coming, and sorry that nothing really happened in it.  But another chapter, the dinner, should be up by tomorrow night, I'm working on it, and I promise some D/H interaction in Chapter 5.  Spring break is coming up, so in the next few weeks a couple more chapters should be done and posted as well.

Thanks so much for your reviews, please keep reviewing!  It's nice to know that people are reading, and I take your comments seriously.  I took yours, **Priah**, and tweaked the first chapter just a little so that even though it's still a quick intro before Draco shows up, at least he isn't named in her thoughts until the later chapter.  I  also wanted to say thanks fo much for reviewing, and that I love your fic Tangled Up in Blue.  I started reading that awhile back, and I'm psyched to know that you're reading mine!


	5. Still Life With an Old Enemy

Chapter Five: (Still) Life With an Old Enemy

"I need to speak with you."

Hermione turned swiftly, startled by voice. Her gaze landed on the figure of Draco Malfoy, leaning lazily against the wall and smiling in a vague way off into the room. He looked for all the world a man who hadn't even noticed Hermione next to him, let along having just been close enough to her that she felt his lips ghost the shell of her ear.

Hermione had been at Blaise's party for perhaps an hour, long enough to know that Malfoy was in attendance, but until this point she hadn't caught a glimpse of him. The "dinner" had turned out to be a real party: couples mingling, house elves (much to Hermione's distaste) swooping about taking care of glasses and plates, offering guests food. It was a much more elegant affair than Hermione's own party two nights prior, but she was having a surprisingly good time.

"What about?" Hermione murmured back, not anxious to engage in conversation with Malfoy while in full view of a great number of the Wizarding World's elite, with a few true gossips thrown in for good measure. She glanced around the room quickly, taking in her boyfriend speaking with Blaise, and laughing heartily. He had been keeping Laurence occupied for the past twenty minutes, and while she was glad to see them catching up, she felt a little uneasy.

"It's private," Malfoy answered, turning his attention on her fully. She felt the intensity of his gaze burn into her, and reflected that he at least did not have any qualms about gossip.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Draco, I know you're rather used to getting everything the way you want it, but I have a boyfriend with me, and I can't just wander off with strange men unannounced just because you tell me it's "private" .

Malfoy scowled, and locked eyes once again with Hermione. After an apparent debate with himself, he nodded at her.

"It's about my father," Malfoy continued, his words causing her body to stiffen. "He isn't dead."

* * *

A/N: This is super short, but not the whole chapter, either. I've come out of hibernation, and offer this token of peace to my readers: a whole new chapter by Tuesday. I changed the name of the story, because after almost a year of a break, my aim with this story is different. Many plot lines have been long discarded, but I've come to one that incorporates the old angst-y romance fic with a new sort that I haven't tried before. Maybe it'll be a miserable failure, maybe not. But it's back! Look for the rest of the chapter by Tuesday (14.12.04) evening! 


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